


Unspoken

by RaccoonMama



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Character Death Fix, Dysfunctional Family, Fix-It, Gen, Headcanon, Implied Relationships, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:29:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaccoonMama/pseuds/RaccoonMama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the Reapers destroyed and everyone working on picking up the pieces of their lives, Zaal'Koris reflects on words not said after Kal'Reegar is found alive on Palaven. Relates to this headcanon: http://raccoonmama.tumblr.com/post/75265877772/so-i-have-this-headcanon-i-share-with-jenn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

It was quiet, save for the soft beeping of machines in the clean room. Every day since Kal'Reegar had been brought home from Palaven, he'd visited. He'd sat quietly next to the door to the clean room, staring at the video feed, the image burning into his mind of his son kept alive by wires and tubes and the grace of their ancestors alone.

There weren't many people in the fleet aware of their relation. His mother had taken him back to her home ship a few years before he had left on Pilgrimage, and when he'd returned and applied to be crew of the Neema, he had petitioned to take her name – Reegar – and ship. Kal'Reegar vas Neema nar Usela had been born Kal'Koris nar Qwib-Qwib, and it was something that still burned him to this day.

He laced his fingers together, thoughtful and silent. Admiral Zaal'Koris was, and always had been, a fairly patient man. True, he had his disagreements with the other admirals, but for the most part things were amiable, and no one really asked about the failed relationship with his late former wife. Nor did anyone inquire about the son he rarely spoke to.

When the girl walked up to him, he stayed silent, not looking up. She had been under so much stress lately, between the MIA status of the woman to whom the entire galaxy owed their lives and the uncertain future of the marine in the room behind him. For all he butted heads with her, Tali'Zorah was brilliant, steadfast, and more loyal to the Migrant Fleet than anyone he had met before.

“Shala'Raan told me you were here.” She spoke her words quietly, wringing her hands together in front of her. It was a nervous habit that surfaced whenever she was upset; he had mentioned it once to Rael'Zorah a long time ago, well before Tali was old enough to leave on Pilgrimage. “I was surprised when she did. I wasn't aware you and Kal still spoke.”

After a moment or two of silence, the older quarian shook his head. “We don't. Not really. If and when we do, it's generally to argue. And yet here I am.”

She nodded, moving to sit down beside him. “Yes. Here you are. May I... may I ask why? If the two of you share no fondness, despite your relation... why are you here?”

Zaal thought long on this question, lifting his head just slightly. The glow of his eyes dimmed a bit behind his mask as he sighed, flicking one hand in a noncommittal fashion. “The others would question if I didn't make some sort of appearance-”

“You are such a liar.” There was a small flare of that temper. “Be honest with me. We've lost too many people and seen too much death to be dishonest now.”

When he fell silent this time, it was to sit straight and give the much younger admiral an appraising look. He could very clearly see why Kal was so attracted to her. She was genuine, intelligent, bold, and fearless. She spoke to him without any hint of intimidation, and clearly wanting an answer that they both knew was there, hanging between them like stardust.

He sighed, softly, looking back at the video. “Because he's my son. Do I need another reason? We haven't always seen eye to eye, but he is my bone and blood. I cannot abandon his side now. Not when he's fighting so hard to live.”

Tali looked surprised, leaning back to give him a careful look. “...I'm sorry. He's talked about how you two don't get along...”

Slowly, Zaal shook his head, looking away from the video of Kal's unmoving body. “No. We don't. His mother, Stotta'Reegar, returned to her birth ship after we had a... disagreement about Kal's decision to join the Migrant Fleet Marines. He never quite forgave me for that... petitioned to be recognized as Kal'Reegar nar Usela upon his return from pilgrimage to become crew of the Neema, as opposed to my name and his actual birth ship. One might say that is one thing he got from me: sheer stubbornness. Once a Koris has it in his mind to do something, that is what he does. I suppose I shouldn't, then, be too terribly surprised that he bucked against my ideals in such a way.”

Tali chose not to question this, lowering her head a bit. “...what he did... he helped a great deal. He saved so many turian lives helping there. You should be proud of him. He lost his entire squad...”

“And he will be furious for that. I know Kal... he'll never forgive himself. Never forget them.” Zaal rubbed his hand over his mask. “...I am so proud of him. Even if he doesn't believe me.”

“Then why don't you just /tell/ him? You're here, right now. You can take care of him-”

He shook his head. “No, I don't want him to know I'm here.”

Tali lowered her head a bit, then gave a very heavy sigh. “That just seems counterproductive to me, I guess. But then, I've always felt that when I can help it, the people I care about should know how much I care about them.”

He shook his head. “It isn't that important this time.”

“Koris, he can neither see nor hear you right now. What makes you think this will even do any good, just coming and never letting him know? Never speaking so he can hear your voice?”

Those words actually caused the older quarian to square his shoulders a bit, voice surprisingly firm. “Because I am a father who is at odds with his only son. I know he would never listen to me, accept my pity, or understand how painful it is for me to have to endure this. However... I must hope that he can somehow know this. That somehow, he knows I'm here, and that I both love him and want him to be well. That's all I /can/ do. Someday, should you ever become a mother, you will undoubtedly find yourself at odds with your child... and maybe then you'll understand how much it hurts to be so far away without knowing how to let them know how much you love them.”

She frowned at him from behind her mask before standing, shaking her head. “With all due respect, Admiral, that is bullshit. He’s still your son. He still deserves to hear his father say he worries for him. If you don’t want him to know you were here, that you actually care, then I wonder if you really care at all. I won’t tell him. That’s your job. You need to do that yourself.”

As she walked away, the old admiral did not respond. He looked back at the video, and for several minutes he just remained in contemplative silence. Then, he reached over and pressed the button for the speaker. “Kal? If you can hear me, it’s… it’s your father. Stars, I hope you can hear me. I think… you and I… we have a lot to talk about. Don’t we, son?” He went quiet, looking around to see if anyone was watching him, before he finally spoke again. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’ve not been as supportive as I could’ve, and I never mentioned how proud I am of your accomplishments. You’ve always been a fine quarian, and an excellent soldier. If your mother could only see you now… if I had the chance to go back and change the path of the stars, I would. I’ve done so wrong by you, and by Stotta, ancestors bless and keep her. If you are speaking with her, let yourself leave. Let the ancestors guide you home, son. Turn away from the stars and come back to us. Not for me… for the fleet. For Tali. You’ve so much left to live for, Kal. Fight for it. You always have before… so I know you can now.”

He silenced the speaker a moment later, standing up and cutting out the video feed. Whatever happened now… it was out of his hands.


End file.
